


can i buy you a drink?

by gingerbread man (xphantomhive)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: I just wrote it, M/M, but they also go to waffle house, honestly i dont even know what era this is set in, john plays piano at a diner, like?????, so i guess you can decide the era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7030003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xphantomhive/pseuds/gingerbread%20man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are cool.</p><p>So cool, really cool. That's why you've been watching the same boy for two weeks and you haven't talked to him yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can i buy you a drink?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadow_Weaver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Weaver/gifts), [treeprince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treeprince/gifts), [Szajl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Szajl/gifts), [Miaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miaw/gifts).



> Shadow_Weaver: thank you so much for all of your kind words and support! you comment on a lot of my things and kudos most everything i write, and for that i am very thankful. i want you to know that i am grateful for all of the support you give to me. thank you so, so much.
> 
> treeprince: you have never once commented on anything i've written. that doesn't mean i don't notice that you tend to kudos a lot of things i write, and i'm thankful for your silent support. thank you so so much! i wouldn't be as far as i am without people like you, who kudos the things i write to show your support even if you don't comment. (add-on: thank you for reading my johndave since the beginning. i just noticed you gave me kudos on my first johndave fic, as awful and ooc as it was.)
> 
> Szajl: i'm pretty sure i asked you about something you wanted written, but the comment with your response is lost in all of my other comments and i'm sorry, but i got really really busy with treatment for my mental conditions and completely forgot about what you wanted me to write. but i still want you to know that i treasure your kind words and support! thank you so much for reading all of my things, even though i'm not exactly the best writer! i'm thankful for your support!
> 
> Miaw: you're another person who has never once commented on any of my works. that doesn't really matter, because i know you support me nonetheless. you leave me kudos on pretty much everything i write (or at least a lot of it!) and i want you to know that i am so thankful for you. thank you a lot for being one of my big supporters - i do notice you even if you don't think i do just because you don't leave me comments!

You’ve been eating at one diner for the past two weeks because of some black-haired boy that plays the piano. The diner is usually pretty empty because it’s right off of a road that no one uses anymore, but even so, the kid is always there, playing the piano. The diner has all of three waitresses working, and they all have your order memorized because you always get the same thing. You aren’t one for change. Tonight, you decided to bring your sister Rose along with you so she could watch the boy play the piano. She hums along to the songs he plays even though you’ve never heard any of them before. Rose is a strange woman.

“So? What do you think?” You ask her, setting your chin in your palm. She shrugs her shoulders and reaches up to adjust the purple flower in her hair. You know the shrug means that she isn’t overly impressed with what she’s hearing, and okay, maybe he isn’t quite as good at piano as you played him up to be. You really just think you have something of a crush on the kid. You watch him from across the diner every night and not once have you tried talking to him, even though he’s usually finished with his act before you leave.

“He’s fine, I suppose,” Rose responds. “I’ve heard worse, I’ve heard better.”

You almost want to act insulted by her comment, but you know that would just make her try and delve into your infatuation with him, so you do your best not to act insulted. There’s somewhat of a strain in your voice when you say, “Well, I think he’s great,” and you know Rose picks up on it because she gives you a coy smile. You prepare yourself for a storm of questions and maybe a bit of psychoanalysing.

“Oh?” She says, raising an eyebrow. “Really, now? I wasn’t aware that you were so interested in piano music. Or perhaps you’re interested in something else? Might I suggest that what you’re interested in is not the music the boy plays, but the boy himself? Would I be right in that assumption, David?”

You make a sour face. “Don’t call me David. You know I hate it when you call me that,” you respond, downing the rest of your coke. The waitress smiles at you nervously when she comes over to take it away, and then she slips you a receipt. Her number is scribbled on the bottom. You look up and she’s across the diner, giggling away with one of the other waitresses. “Great, now the waitress that ogles me every night gave me her number. What am I supposed to do about that? I’m going to feel horrible if I tell her no, and I’m going to feel horrible if I tell her yes. This is a fucking lose-lose situation, Rose.”

Rose chuckles. “Tell her no. Oh, look, your crush is finished playing the piano. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“Are you fucking crazy? No, I’m not going to go talk to him.”

“I may be considered crazy, at times. I want you to go talk to the boy, Dave.”

Since you know Rose won’t let you alone unless you go talk to the boy, you get up and straighten out your suit jacket. You call the waitress over before you go and ask her for another coke, and while you do that you tell her that you aren’t interested. She nods and frowns. Rose sighs wistfully and tells you that she’s going to try for the girl’s number. You tell her that you don’t care what she does, and then you walk over to the boy. There are probably a lot of cool things you could say to him, but instead you settle on, “Can I buy you a drink?”

Oh my God. You can’t believe you did that. Who asks someone if they can buy them a drink without sounding like a sleazebag? That’s it, you’re done for. You might as well just go back over to Rose and tell her that you’ve failed at talking to the boy. While you’re thinking over your failure, you fail to notice that the boy is smiling up at you. When you finally tune back into the real world, he’s still smiling, and he says, “Sure, but I hope you don’t mean something alcoholic. They don’t serve that here.”

You slip into the seat next to him. Rose is smiling at you from across the room, tracing the rim of her teacup with her finger. Her nails are painted black, just like her soul. You call the waitress over and ask her for another coke and if she’ll bring your coke to you over here, and she gives you a smile that’s obviously forced and nods. “So. You’re here every night. Have you been working up the courage to ask me if you could buy me a drink for the past two weeks?” The boy asks, tapping his fingers against the counter to the beat of a song you think you’ve heard before.

“I had better things to say, but that’s what popped out,” you respond. “What’s your name?”

The boy smiles. “You’re a real smooth talker, you know that? My name is John Egbert.”

You think that name really suits him. “I’m Dave Strider.”

The waitress walks back over to the two of you and slides the cokes at you. She’s glaring at John like he just took away everything that she’s ever owned, even though all he did was be cuter than her and catch your attention first. Rose calls the waitress back over to her, and you watch for a few seconds to see if they start talking. Thankfully, they do. You hope that’ll get the waitress off of your back and John’s. You had no doubts that she was going to do things that would probably make John cry, or something like that. Women are evil beings. “So, Dave Strider, why do you keep coming back to this crappy diner?”

“Because you’re here.” You blurt before you can stop yourself, and John smiles at you again. You really hope that was the right thing to say, because you can’t fuck this up. You’ve been building courage for the past two weeks so you could talk to John, and you don’t plan on screwing your plan up now that it’s in motion. “Was that cheesy?” You ask, trying to keep yourself going. When you get nervous, you’re known to babble. Rose is grinning at you from across the room, but she’s still talking to the waitress in the meantime.

“Yeah, but it worked,” he responds. “Wanna go back to my place?”

Hell yes. Hell fucking yes. You have done it. Score for Strider. “Yeah, sure.”

Good for you. You weren’t so sure how cool you’d be able to be, but you managed. You tell John that you need to tell your sister that you’re leaving, and he nods and tells you that he has to grab his coat and keys anyway. You walk over to Rose and say, “I scored. Have you?”

She sighs. “Not yet. The cute waitress is named Jade. I’m sure I’ll have her number by the time the night’s out. I’m glad you’ve scored, though. Are you going back to his place?”

You nod and when John walks over, you tell her that you’ve got to go. She gives John one of those condescending smiles of hers, and he smiles back nervously and digs his teeth into his bottom lip. God, he’s cute. He walks out of the diner and you follow behind him. He owns a pretty cheap car, and it’s as blue as his eyes. You climb into the passenger seat and by the time you’ve buckled up, he already has the car started. The drive to his place is silent aside from the radio playing in the background, and when you get there you notice that his hands are shaking while he’s trying to unlock the door. “Nervous?” You ask, and he jumps.

“A little bit,” he responds. It takes him four tries to unlock the door properly. “I haven’t had anyone back at my place since I was sixteen, and then I still lived with my parents, so. Yes, you could say I’m pretty nervous. Anyway, welcome to my house. Make yourself at home.”

He throws his keys aside and flops back onto the sofa. You plop down next to him and take your shoes off. “What even happens when you take someone to your house? Are you supposed to have sex with them?”

You laugh. You can tell that he hasn’t had anyone over in a long, long time. “No, John. Just because I came back to your place doesn’t mean you have to have sex with me. I mean, it’s your choice though. If you’d want to-” He cuts you off by slapping you in the arm. He tells you that he doesn’t want to have sex with you right now. “Are you implying that you’d like to have sex with me some other time?”

“Maybe after I get to know you better. For now, I think sloppy makeouts are in order.”

He climbs onto your lap which, yes, is pretty surprising. Then his mouth is on yours and that is also pretty surprising, but you kiss him back anyway. He wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you closer. He breaks the kiss first, but he presses his forehead to yours. “Does this mean I get a free date with you? Because that would be pretty cool.”

He laughs and his breath washes over your face. He smells like mint toothpaste and coke, which is a really odd combination of smells. “Oh, I guess. It better be a good date, though, or you are  _ so  _ not getting into my pants.”

“Duly noted,” you respond, and then he goes back to kissing you.

(Your first date is to the Waffle House.

He is not impressed.)

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea what era this is set in. john played piano at a diner, but they went on a date to waffle house. you can just make it in any era you want. maybe i accidentally switched eras.
> 
> i hope you guys liked this!


End file.
